


Around the World in Thirty-One Days

by Agasthiya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Communication, Cruise Ships, Domestic Bliss, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Honeymoon, Lots of Spicy Food, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Travelling Shenanigans, World Travel, midnight bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agasthiya/pseuds/Agasthiya
Summary: “Does it qualify for a world tour if we don’t actually scour the globe?”Viktor waves his hand dismissively. “Aww, let’s not quibble over semantics. To me, it does. I’ve never visited so many countries in such a short space of time.”“Me neither.”“Thirty-one days.” Viktor rests his forehead against Yuuri’s. “One entire month, just for us.”“I still can’t believe it.” Yuuri intertwines his fingers with Viktor’s. “We’re married.”“We are,” Viktor confirms.After a year and a half juggling between wedding preparations and competitions, honeymoon time has finally come for Yuuri and Viktor. One entire month during which they'll get to see the world and its treasures, have new experiences, face travel hiccups and cherish each other's existence.A peaceful, bright journey, without a single cloud on the horizon... if it weren't for the secret Viktor is hiding.





	1. Moscow, Russia, 8:41 PM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fiercest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/gifts).

> Hello!
> 
> This fic was written for the Victuuri Summer Exchange, my giftee suggested the prompt "Honeymoon world tour". I had a blast working on it, as it combines both my interest in travelling and my passion for Yuuri and Viktor being beautifully in love with each other. I intended to write it like small vignettes, each vignette being focused on one country, but they progressively got longer, aaaah. It was quite a journey. I poured my heart into this fic, and I hope you will enjoy it <3
> 
> A thousand thanks to Ollie for reading through this fic, for her corrections and encouragement <3
> 
> [my Tumblr](https://piecesofbrokenrecollections.tumblr.com)

Viktor knows Sheremetyevo Airport like the back of his hand. It has been the anchor point for most of his travels, much more than Saint Petersburg’s Pulkovo Airport that doesn’t offer as many direct flights. This place carries all the memories of competitions abroad, of the very rare holidays he’s allowed himself to take throughout his career… And, above all else, it has been the crossroads that lead him to Japan, and by extension to the love of his life.

Today, a red-letter day, marks the creation of a new memory, the most beautiful of them all. Today marks the beginning of their honeymoon.

It still sounds surreal. Him, Viktor Nikiforov, married. To the most incredible man who has ever graced this world. As if to get, yet again, confirmation that this isn’t all a dream, he holds out his hand in front of him, not paying attention to the weird looks his waiting room neighbours are giving him. He kind of enjoys it, actually, flashing his happiness in the face of perfect strangers. The gold band catches the neon lights, rooting him into reality the way it has that day in front of the Barcelona cathedral, one year and a half ago, when Yuuri placed a very similar ring on his finger.

“That’s a nice ring you’ve got here, sir.”

Arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, and a little shopping bag is dropped on his lap. Viktor smiles as he brings the hand wearing an identical ring to his lips, kissing each knuckle one by one. Yuuri is like a cat sometimes, such a silent walker. His unexpected hugs are just one of his numerous ways to surprise Viktor.

“I return the compliment,” Viktor replies, not letting go of Yuuri’s hand as he returns to his seat. “Did you find the biscuits you wanted?”

“Yes. And I also found something I'm sure you'll find interesting.”

Curious, Viktor fumbles in the bag… and takes out matcha green tea chocolate bars with a very familiar-looking Japanese package. A minute cannot pass without Yuuri surprising him, apparently.

“I didn’t think I'd find these here. I guess they’ve been exporting well.” Yuuri grimaces. “I can’t say the same about the price though… Do you remember?”

How could Viktor not remember his first Japanese snack? He'd only been in Hasetsu for a couple weeks, and he was still taken over by the fever of novelty. He wanted to go everywhere, taste everything, even simple things. That day, they were at a kiosk to get the newspaper for Yuuri's dad, and Viktor got caught up in inspecting the candies and snacks in stock. Yuuri noticed, and insisted on buying him some. Viktor was so surprised and happy that he barely gave his choice any thought. It wasn’t because of the snack itself, but because this small gesture showed that Yuuri was growing more and more comfortable with him. He picked the matcha chocolate bars, and the two of them shared them while strolling on the beach, diet be damned. Needless to say they brought the newspaper home much later than planned.

He feels a twinge in his heart at the memory. He kisses Yuuri’s cheek as a thank you, then opens one of the bars. _Damn, it’s been ages,_ he thinks as he takes a bite. 

“Oh, also, I meant to ask you,” Yuuri says, opening his own pack of biscuits, “what kind of souvenir do you think we should get Makkachin?”

Viktor snorts. “We haven’t boarded yet and you’re already thinking of this?”

“Hey, like you haven’t. And say that to Mila, she’s the one who asked.”

Yuuri hands Viktor his phone, the screen displaying his text conversation with Mila.

_she was sad you were gone but we’re basically BFFs now. you were quickly replaced <3 friendly advice, bring back gifts )))_

Below the text is a selfie of Mila, winking intendedly while half-hugging Makkachin, whose tongue is lolling adorably.

“Her hair looks curlier than usual…” Viktor comments. “Mila’s, I mean.”

“Right? I noticed too! I’m sure she curled them on purpose to match Makkachin’s,” Yuuri laughs. “They look so well assorted.”

It never fails to warm Viktor’s heart, how well Yuuri and Mila get along, and how quickly they did. It impresses him, too. After all, he was never very close to his rinkmates, and Mila always behaved in a reserved manner towards him. It makes sense, since she is nine years younger than him and respected him as the ‘Russian living legend’ – not the ideal setting for a peer to peer relationship. It has greatly improved in the last few months, Mila not hesitating to tease him over how smitten he is, and Viktor giving her valuable skating advice and encouragement. If someone had told him he would one day consider Mila the closest thing to a little sister, he wouldn’t have believed it.

It is all thanks to Yuuri, and his devotion to getting involved in Viktor’s universe. He’s worked so hard to find his footing in Saint Petersburg… which is why Viktor has been so hesitant to broach _the_ subject, that one subject that has occupied his mind for so long and is dying to be set free.

But they’re going to board any minute, so now is not the right time. Pushing the thoughts away, he wraps up the rest of his chocolate bar for later.

“I have a feeling Makkachin isn’t really the one asking for a souvenir, though,” Yuuri says as he puts the phone back into his pocket.

“Mila is dog-sitting for us, of course we’ll get her something nice. Not too heavy though, we’ll need all the space we can get for this world tour.”

“Does it qualify for a world tour if we don’t actually scour the globe?”

Viktor waves his hand dismissively. “Aww, let’s not quibble over semantics. To me, it does. I’ve never visited so many countries in such a short space of time.”

“Me neither.”

“Thirty-one days.” Viktor rests his forehead against Yuuri’s. “One entire month, just for us.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Yuuri intertwines his fingers with Viktor’s. “We’re married.”

“We are,” Viktor confirms.

It’s been such a long and bumpy road. Competitions didn’t give them much time to plan the wedding linearly, and reuniting all their international friends in Japan for the big day was a challenge. And now, here they are. They look at their hands, then at each other, and they dissolve into giggles, elation washing over them once again.

“Thank you Worlds,” Yuuri says with a solemn voice.

“Yuuri, gold medal or not, I would have married you either way, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know, silly.” Yuuri gives Viktor a peck on the nose. “The invitations had been sent two months prior. I was kidding.”

“That said… You so deserved it. I am unspeakably proud of you.”

“I know that too.” Yuuri lowers his voice. “You proved it to me in so many ways that didn’t involve words the night of the banquet.”

The rush of heat through Viktor's body is instantaneous. It must show because Yuuri doesn't miss the opportunity to tease him, even if he starts blushing as well. It really is infectious.

“Wow.” Yuuri strokes his chin with the tip of his finger. “And I didn't even say anything specific.”

“That's not fair,” Viktor protests, “you can't play the post-Worlds night card when I'm unprepared.”

“If you think I’m going to pass up the chance to make you blush, you’re ill-informed,” Yuuri whispers, peppering Viktor’s neck with light kisses to punctuate his statement. Viktor has to admit that he had it coming after all these times he made Yuuri blush at inopportune moments, even long before they got together.

There is some bustle in the waiting room and they snap out of their little world, still flush-faced. Everyone is getting up, catching their bags and hand luggage. Viktor looks at the departure screen. Next to ‘Chiang Mai - gate 36,’ a green ‘boarding’ has appeared. They fall in step with the group heading for the gate, swallowing their frustration at having been cut off so abruptly. They don’t get to talk much during the process, though Viktor snickers when a flight attendant asks Yuuri if he’s okay because of how flushed he looks.

“That’s what you call the biter bit,” Viktor chirps in his ear.

Yuuri smirks, clearly ready to serve Viktor some biting retort, but is stopped in his tracks by another attendant telling him to move forward.

As usual, Viktor gives Yuuri the window seat. They arrange their bags in the luggage compartment and at their feet, then take off their coats and settle comfortably. The other man on their row has put on headphones and an eye mask, not paying any attention to them. Perfect.

“I can’t wait till they serve dinner. Aeroflot’s meals are some of the best airline meals I’ve ever had,” Yuuri says.

“Really? What about Japan Airlines'?”

“I like them too, but… I guess I've grown too used to them.”

“Oh… Yeah. It makes sense. You've travelled with them a lot after all.” After a moment of silence, Viktor caresses Yuuri’s hand. “Well. To Chiang Mai?”

His eyes sparkling, Yuuri takes Viktor’s face in his hands and leans in for a kiss, so soft yet so passionate that Viktor can feel himself melt. It is no ordinary kiss, despite its simplicity. It carries the promise of love and devotion, for the next thirty-one days and for all the ones to come.

Viktor takes a decision. He won't bother Yuuri with 'the subject,' not during their honeymoon. He won't even think about it. He will put his entire focus on showering Yuuri with all the love he deserves, and nothing else.

“To our world tour,” Yuuri murmurs against his lips.


	2. Chiang Mai, Thailand, 5:50 PM

“…you’re in Doi Inthanon? Aaah, lucky you! I’ve only been there once when I was thirteen, it was magical! The mountains, the royal pagodas, the birds… oh, and the Wachirathan falls… a pure marvel! And what else have you been visiting?”

Despite his enthusiasm, there is a quaver in Phichit’s voice that Yuuri has only heard when he was particularly emotional, like when he won gold at last year’s Four Continents cup.

“Well, it’s our second day, so only the city center and a few temples so far,” Yuuri replies. He tilts his head, his cheek touching Viktor’s hair. “Phichit, are you alright? Your voice sounds strange.”

“Ah… I was hoping you wouldn’t hear it through the phone.” A warm smile spreads all over his face. “I’m just so happy for you lovebirds. You gave us the most perfect wedding, and now you’re out there exploring the world, living the real life… Also, you look handsome.”

“Aww,” Viktor coos at that. He feels like he's still carrying the weight of jet lag all over his face, but as for Yuuri, he wholeheartedly agrees. “By the way, I'm keeping the lucky charm you gave me the day of the wedding in my pocket at all times, like you told me.”

It makes Phichit smile wider.

“We're really sorry,” Yuuri says, “since Bangkok is so far away and our timing is short, we won’t get to see you…”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t expect you to meet me at all. It’s your honeymoon, your time to have eyes for each other and no one else. In fact,” Phichit points a warning finger at them, trying to convey firmness, “I forbid you to Facetime me again for the rest of the month.”

Yuuri and Viktor exchange an amused look.

“What about texting?”

“…It's fine,” Phichit replies after thinking, rather pointlessly considering that it would take a major international blackout to stop him from texting.

"We just wanted to say hi before going back to town for dinner,” Viktor says. “Not contacting you at all while we’re in Thailand didn't feel right.”

“Ah right, dinner… That's funny, I’m not used to being in the same time zone as you! Are you going to a restaurant?”

“Yes! We found a place that serves all kinds of Northern and Southern dishes so we’ll get to try as many things as possible. We’re so excited!”

Phichit winks. “No need to tell you to be careful, I suppose.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

Viktor’s confusion catches Phichit off-guard.

“Oh… Well, you know.”

“Know what?”

An awkward silence settles, interrupted by a ringing sound resonating in the background on Phichit’s end. “Oh! It’s my doorbell.” He sounds a bit too happy about this timely diversion. “Be right back.”

He puts the phone down on his bed and walks away, giving Yuuri and Viktor an outstanding view of his ceiling.

Viktor turns to Yuuri. “What do you think he meant? What should we be careful about?”

“Uh… I think by 'you,' he meant… you. Not us.”

“What? Why me?”

“Well, you know that Thailand has some of the hottest and spiciest dishes in the world. Phichit told me once that many tourists struggle to handle that much spice…”

“But I can! I love spicy food!”

Yuuri puckers his lips, skeptical.

“I mean… I haven't tried often but… I could love it. I’m not picky, I can eat all kinds of food, you know that!”

“It's not a matter of pickiness…”

There is movement on the screen, and Phichit appears again. “Sorry! My little sister forgot her key again…”

“I can handle spices!” Viktor exclaims.

Phichit blinks. “Uh, okay! I didn’t mean to assume. But well, I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re married to an expert.”

“Phichit…” Yuuri sighs.

“What? It’s true! You could eat chili peppers like candies. Hey, remember that night after last year’s Four Continents?”

“I've never done that!” Yuuri protests at the same time as Viktor asks “What happened?” Because of conflicting schedules, he had been unable to accompany Yuuri.

“Tell him, Yuuri!”

“Nothing happened really… We decided to eat together to celebrate the end of the competition. Leo, Otabek and a few other people tagged along, and since Phichit won gold, we let him choose the place. Somehow, he managed to find the spiciest restaurant in town.”

“I decided that anyone who couldn’t finish their dish would pay me dessert!” Even after all this time, Phichit seems very proud of his idea. “It was a long shot, most of them had a high tolerance to spices. And yet! Out of seven people, Yuuri was the only one who didn’t have to pay up. I couldn’t believe it! Even I thought I wouldn’t make it!”

“I didn’t care about the spice level, I ordered what I wanted, that’s it.”

“Oh, what modest words from such a hardcore mouth.” Phichit gives Viktor an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. I cooked what I considered a mild meal for a rinkmate in Detroit and she practically breathed fire. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Viktor appreciates Phichit’s caution, and he regrets his sudden defensiveness. But he stands firm. He is in Thailand, and he wants to eat like a local, mild and spicy alike. Starting with spicy.

“I love a good challenge.”

“You two really are made for each other,” Phichit laughs. “But since I want you to stay alive so you can later tell me about the rest of your trip, let me give you one piece of advice: if you get khua kling or nam phrik ong, do not, and I insist, _do not_ eat without milk close at hand unless you want to cry blood. Milk, not water.”

Viktor takes out his phone. “Wait, can you spell them for me? Khua what?”

The sun is setting down behind the mountains. Groups of people are passing by their bench, taking the path towards the exit.

“We’ve got to go, the park is closing soon,” Yuuri says. “Say hi to Pensri for me!”

“Will do! Think of me and my rice and eggplant leftovers while you enjoy your spice feast. _Léaw jer gan!_” Phichit blows a kiss at the screen before hanging up.

“Wow! I hope the restaurant has them,” Viktor says, scrolling down Google Images. “They look delicious! Don't you think they look delicious? I should've asked Phichit for more suggestions…”

“Hurry, the taxi will leave without us,” Yuuri laughs as he pulls him up the bench by the hand. “Say,” he continues as they walk down the path, “why are you so adamant about eating the spiciest meals?”

“Yuuri, we’re on our honeymoon, it’s our chance to try all kinds of local food!”

“Sure, but… Thailand has just as many non-spicy meals. The point is to have a fun night-out, you should eat what makes you happy first and foremost. You have nothing to prove, Phichit didn’t challenge you…”

“That’s right. I’m challenging myself.” Viktor holds Yuuri’s hand tighter. “You know, for a long time, most of my travels were only for competition purposes, so I wasn’t free to eat anything I wanted. I wasn't feeling frustrated, I didn't think much about it. After all, I was there to skate. I already told you, but it’s only when I started coaching you that I realised I probably missed out on many, many things.”

Yuuri strokes the back of Viktor’s hand with his thumb in response.

“I don’t know to which degree I can handle spicy food. And I want to find out, to test my limits. This--” Viktor stops, staring at Yuuri. “--would make me really happy.”

Something sparkles in Yuuri’s eyes, the same glint that appears when he's at the rink entrance, ready to dazzle thousands of people. “Then I certainly won’t let you party on your own. Let’s go wild tonight.”

They’re back to the hotel in an hour and a half. After showering and resting for a bit, they go on a tuk-tuk drive in the vibrant heart of Chiang Mai to work up the appetite. The horns, the merchants, the music filling up the air as bars start opening and musicians settle by the Ping River, rock and reggae, blues and jazz… Everything blends together in beautiful dissonance. Yuuri snuggles against Viktor as they watch the lantern lights reflecting in the riverside. They'll come back tomorrow evening to take a few pictures for their future printed photo album.

Eventually, the driver drops them in front of a restaurant decorated with teak wood and colourful lights. They’re welcomed by three smiling waiters in purple uniforms, and taken to a table for two in the corner.

They get beer first, but slow down their drinking pace when they realise that the waiters refill their glasses as soon as they drop below halfway. Being aware of the shared dishes etiquette, they order several meals including khua kling, nam phrik ong and another Northern speciality, khao soy, a noodle soup. A waitress gives them plates of rice and soup bowls, and soon comes back with the rest of the food. A strong smell of curry and chili pepper embalms the table and makes Viktor's nose sting a bit. He can’t tell if it’s a pleasant feeling or not.

“That’s weird,” Yuuri says, “I feel like we forgot something…”

“I don’t think so, but maybe it’ll come back to you,” Viktor replies, helping himself to a bit of everything. “Let’s start at the same time, okay?”

They take a spoonful of rice coated in khua kling and count to three together.

There’s a brief lull during which Viktor thinks it’s not that hot, that he expected worse, until a burning sensation invades his palate and throat. Opposite him, Yuuri gives a little cough followed by a laugh. “Oh wow, it’s much stronger than I expected. But really good!”

Astonished, Viktor watches Yuuri take a second spoonful with the same ease as if he were eating cold cucumber soup. How does he do that? One single bite and Viktor worries he might follow Phichit’s friend’s lead and breathe fire. Maybe it’s because it was the first one. Yes, it would make sense. Now that he knows what it tastes like, it eliminates the element of surprise, and he’ll get used to it bite by bite.

So he takes another one.

And another one.

“Viktor, your face looks red… Are you okay?”

Briefly unable to swallow, he nods frantically while giving a thumbs up. Every grain of rice sliding down his throat pricks him like a small needle against an open wound. He drinks some beer, thinking it will appease him. It doesn’t work.

“Right! Milk! That’s what we forgot! Uh, hold on… Here,” Yuuri rushes to give him a piece of plain naan, “bread is a great absorbent.”

“I swear, it’s not that bad…”

“Viktor, you’re crying.”

“My eyes are crying, not me.” Viktor eats the naan anyway. While it momentarily relieves the scorching feeling, he wouldn’t say no to a more effective remedy.

“Found it,” Yuuri says, eyes on his phone. “_’Nom’._ That’s the Thai word for milk.”

He takes a look around, in search of a waiter. Unfortunately, they’re all busy carrying plates, refilling glasses, welcoming new groups of customers and repeating the operation over and over.

“We need to draw their attention.” It’s with these words that Yuuri grabs his three-quarters full glass of beer and downs it in one go. He cringes a bit then puts it down prominently by the corner of the table, giving an angelic smile to a stunned Viktor, whose eyes go from Yuuri to the empty glass to Yuuri.

It works. The waitress from earlier appears at their table, but before she gets to ask if he wants a refill, Yuuri starts speaking broken Thai, with hesitant gestures and an emphasis on the word _nom_. Smiling widely, the waitress nods and makes a beeline for the kitchens.

Upon realising that Viktor is still staring at him, Yuuri giggles. “Right, maybe we could’ve just called out for them, but… this was the first thing I could think of.” He pushes his empty glass away. “I’m glad she didn’t refill it, I’m not sure I like it.”

Viktor closes his teary eyes, suddenly overcome with the desire to marry this man again.

But the beverages the waitress comes back with aren’t the plain, white milk that they expected. They’re orange-hued, with a gradient that darkens at the bottom of the glass, and topped with white cream.

“Not to make fun of your Thai skills, they’re much better than mine, but…” Viktor takes his glass and studies it, confused. “I think there was a small misunderstanding.”

“No… it’s iced tea.”

“That’s my point.”

“No, no. I didn’t know what to order, so I just asked for something with milk. And Thai iced tea contains lots of it. It tastes very sweet. Phichit would often make these.”

“Oh.” Viktor takes a sip, and instantly the cold mixture of milk and sugar soothe his mouth. He feels reinvigorated, and ready to resume his challenge.

The healing effect wears off a few bites in. Viktor’s lips keep burning, his tongue gets swollen, and even Yuuri starts struggling. Yet, as he alternates between hot chili paste and iced tea, something strange happens within Viktor. He doesn’t want to stop. Not just because he doesn’t want to leave food unfinished, but because he’s developing a taste for it. He’s reaching a state of happiness where he feels like he’s discovering new things about himself, about his own limits, things he’s never let himself explore before. It’s exhilarating. The first time he felt something similar was when he arrived in Hasetsu.

Obviously, as he lies on the hotel bed doubled over in pain an hour later, letting out a litany of groans, the only state he’s in is one of regret.

“Ughhhh… what a stupid idea… why did I do that…” he keeps repeating, holding his stomach.

Yuuri fills him glass of milk after glass of milk, which distantly reminds him of the waiters.

“It’s good I got two bottles at the convenience store, the first one is already empty…" he hands the glass to Viktor, who drinks it in two seconds. "Does it help a bit?”

“Don’t know… not sure… I've drunk so much of it…”

He puts it on the night stand before collapsing again. Yuuri sits on the bed and caresses his forehead. Viktor leans into the touch, his eyes half-closed.

“How are you not making fun of me…” 

“You feel bad enough, no need to rub chili in the wound.” With another groan, Viktor buries his face into the pillow, making Yuuri snort. He lies by him, his fingers stroking his back. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Viktor nods, still face down, then turns around for Yuuri to spoon him. “Yes. I found out something important tonight, which is… I love spicy food, but it doesn’t love me back.”

Yuuri shifts behind him so that their bodies are perfectly aligned, and wraps his arm over Viktor’s belly. “I’m not hurting you?”

“No.” Viktor smiles fondly, holding Yuuri’s arm closer to him. “I never thought that not handling spices was a sign of weakness. How does your taste in food and sensitivity to it have anything to do with strength? But still… Am I a hypocrite for insisting?”

“Viktor…” Yuuri kisses the nape of his neck. “No. You’re curious, and you do your best to adjust. When you first came to Japan, you would taste everything, even things that didn’t seem appealing to you. I found it touching. You’re open to new experiences and you enjoy them to the fullest. It’s a beautiful thing. And you’re right, it’s neither a sign of strength or weakness, but… you impressed me tonight.” He rests his forehead between Viktor’s shoulder blades, his voice turning emotional. “I’m so grateful I can share these moments with you.”

Taken aback by this heartfelt answer, Viktor is left with no words, so he replies by intertwining their fingers and pressing their joined hands against his stomach. They remain lying in silence in the dim light of the room for a moment, legs intertwined, and let the noises of the city fade away as the weight of food and alcohol and tiredness slowly take over them.

“Do me a favour?” Viktor says softly.

“Anything.”

“If Phichit asks, tell him I finished the khua kling without crying, blood or anything else.”

“Of course,” Yuuri promises, knowing full well that Phichit won’t believe a word of it.


	3. Luxor, Egypt, 2:17 PM

Yuuri wakes up from his nap feeling even more under the weather than before. He lazily grabs his phone on the night stand and lights up the screen. No wonder he feels so groggy, he’s been asleep for over an hour.

Damn heat. And damn him for not taking his hat this morning before leaving. Since visits are purposefully concentrated on mornings to avoid the burning afternoon sun, the possibility of heat exhaustion didn’t cross his mind. As it turns out, these things can hit you when you least expect them.

They were walking around the Valley of the Kings when Yuuri started feeling a bit dizzy. He drank as much water as possible, but the sun and the sand seemed to dry him up instantly. Each step was a challenge, and it got worse when they reached the Karnak Temple Complex. The area was gorgeous, steeped with history, yet he couldn’t focus on anything but his desire to lie down in a cool place. He spent the rest of the visit leaning on Viktor, who was too worried to properly enjoy the place and listen to the guide’s explanations. This is what hurt Yuuri the most. He didn't even get to apologise since Viktor and Ihab, a doctor and fellow traveller from Morocco, took him to bed as soon as they were back on the ship.

Before he fell asleep, Ihab checked on him and assured it was nothing serious, that all he needed was rest and a lot of water. Indeed, despite the post-nap grossness, Yuuri feels much better. And ravenous, as his grumbling stomach reminds him. Next to him is a serving trolley with a water bottle as well as a bell-covered plate and a pink post-it stuck on it.

Yuuri puts his glasses on and reads the familiar handwriting.

_I asked the cook to save you a plate, it’s called kushari! I’ll be on the deck if you feel like going out but don’t do it on an empty stomach ♡ (it’s spicy but it will never beat khua kling)_

He smiles fondly and sticks the note in their travel notebook to keep it safe. He wouldn’t want it to end up deep in the kitchens’ bins. Anything coming from Viktor is precious.

He stands up carefully for fear of getting light-headed and lifts the bell. A puff of steam blows into his face, fogging his glasses. Cumin and chili aromas, previously kept contained inside the bell, fill the room and make his mouth water.

The dish is as colourful as it is fragrant. It's a mix of rice, lentils and macaroni, harmoniously topped with tomato sauce, chickpeas and fried onions. It seems rich and substantial, exactly what he needs. He settles on the small table by the window, so he can enjoy both his food and the view of sandstones and date palms bordering the Nile. He tries not to eat too quickly, conflicted between his wish to savour the meal and his impatience to see Viktor. He really needs to apologise, and not through texting.

His stomach full, he changes into clean t-shirt and shorts and puts his hat on. As he gets out of the cabin, he comes face to face with their neighbour Tanya – no, that’s not right… Tanya doesn’t wear glasses, unlike her twin sister Ava. Yuuri and Viktor first met them in Abu Simbel when they approached Viktor with a polite, apologetic tone that reminded him of fans who don't dare to ask for a selfie. It turns out they didn’t know him at all and just wanted him to take their picture in front of the temple.

“Hey Yuuri! I just had a drink with your husband on the deck, he told me you were feeling unwell. How are you doing?”

Yuuri blushes. Hearing people refer to Viktor as his husband will never stop making him feel warm inside.

“It was just heat exhaustion. I’m much better.”

Ava frowns. “You sure? Your face looks a bit red.”

“Does it?” Yuuri feigns surprise by touching his cheek. “I’m good, really. Ihab said I'd be fine.”

“Oh, good then,” Ava says, relieved. “These things shouldn’t be taken lightly. A few years ago, Tanya and I were visiting our grandparents in southern Peloponnese, which is super hot in the summer. But since we go there every year, we were a bit careless and didn't pay attention to the sun. I got away with a sunburn, but Tanya got such a nasty heatstroke she had to stay in bed for three days. Let me tell you it taught us a lesson.”

“Yeah… I can imagine.” Yuuri crosses his arms, embarrassed. “Uh, speaking of, where is she?” he asks to change the subject.

Ava shrugs. “She was with us, but then some guy showed up and she left with him. I think it's the know-it-all who wouldn't shut up in Isis Temple.”

“Ah, I know who you're talking about. Viktor too finds him annoying.”

“He told me so. I'm not surprised, he's clearly a man of taste.”

Not knowing how to respond to this indirect compliment without sounding awkward, Yuuri simply smiles. “Do you know if he's still on the deck?”

“He's by the swimming pool. I couldn’t stay, the heat is wearing me out. And here I thought Greek summers were hell…”

Ava swipes her card into the lock, waving at Yuuri before disappearing inside her cabin.

Yuuri reaches the hall and climbs the spiral staircase leading up to the deck. The bar counts a few people, but the poolside is empty save for Viktor. Dressed in nothing but his black swim boxers, he is lying on a sun lounger, sunglasses on his eyes and a book left open on his belly. If it weren’t for the parasol, it would have left a hilarious square tan line.

Given his non-reaction when Yuuri sits by him on the lounger, and his slow, even breathing, he must have nodded off. Yuuri contemplates him, not daring to touch him. He wouldn’t have expected Viktor to look so peaceful under such a blazing sun. Between the two of them, he’s the one who handles heat the least.

A smile blooms on Viktor’s lips, indicating that he’s opened his eyes. He lifts up his sunglasses and puts his book away.

“Hey, beauty,” he mumbles, tilting up the back of the chair before slowly pulling Yuuri into a tender, languid kiss. “You look better.”

“I am."

“Did you eat? Was it good?”

“Yes, and yes. Just the right amount of spicy.” Yuuri nuzzles Viktor’s neck, breathing in the sweet smell of his sunscreen. “Aren’t you too hot?”

“A bit… but I’m okay. If I want to cool down a bit, the pool is right here. I was a bit tired so I thought I'd take a little nap while waiting for you.”

“You could’ve come back to the cabin.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Take off your glasses, I'll give you some sunscreen.”

Yuuri closes his eyes. Viktor dots his expensive SPF 50 sunscreen onto his face and lays it on, his fingers drawing his contours, making sure to not miss a spot. Usually, Yuuri loves the care Viktor puts into this task. Right now, it just awashes him in guilt, bringing him back to this morning when Viktor reapplied sunscreen on him because he was too weak to do it himself.

“This hat looks so cute on you,” Viktor chirps, now taking care of Yuuri's collarbone. “Why don't you wear it more often?”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be, it's just a hat."

“No.” Yuuri lowers his head. “It's not. If I had worn it this morning, none of this would've happened. I was careless."

“You couldn't predict you'd feel so hot… And you could've gotten sick even with a hat on. Don't beat yourself up, okay?” The collarbone done, Viktor applies sunscreen on Yuuri’s forearms. “Remember my first summer in Hasetsu, that one day on the beach? We didn't see it coming either.”

Yuuri does all too well. They had been so busy messing around on the sand and in the water that they hadn't paid attention to the sun's rays piercing through the clouds and surreptitiously hitting them, Viktor's sensitive skin in particular. By the evening, poor Viktor looked like a lobster, and Yuuri had to use a good portion of his mum's aloe vera stock on him. No matter how many times Viktor told him it was his own fault for forgetting to apply sunscreen, Yuuri couldn't help feeling responsible for it, for not warning him enough about how treacherous Japanese summers can be.

“That’s the point. I should’ve known better. To make it worse, I completely ruined the visit for you too.”

“What are you on about? Bring your lovely calves up here… thanks. You didn’t ruin anything for me," Viktor says as he strokes Yuuri's legs. "If anything, I was sad you couldn’t enjoy it. But I took tons of pictures, and it’s not like we’ll never get to visit it again.”

“But… It’s a cruise. We won’t be coming back to Luxor.”

“Maybe not this week. But Egypt is a huge country, we haven’t seen a quarter of the half of its wonders. I definitely intend to come back someday. But if you really want to apologise…” He hands him the tube of sunscreen with a smirk. “I need a new layer."

It is with undisguised pleasure that Yuuri brushes Viktor's hair away and starts dotting sunscreen directly on the skin, following Viktor's recommendation. According to him, it absorbs better that way.

“Lie back down,” Yuuri says once he's finished with Viktor's face. He positions himself so that he's straddling Viktor, and carefully slathers sunscreen over his chest and shoulders. Even after it's absorbed properly, he keeps rubbing his hands over Viktor's skin, lingering over his nipples. Eyes closed, Viktor slightly raises his chest with little hums of delight, yearning for more. Yuuri shifts his position, his hands slowly going down until they reach Viktor's thighs. His muscles flex as Yuuri massages them, one after the other, revelling in the softness of his inner thigh.

He asks Viktor to turn around so he can take care of his back, to which Viktor happily obliges. He rests his head on his arms, smiling peacefully as Yuuri applies a final layer.

Yuuri knows Viktor's body by heart. Each line of his muscles, each centimeter of his skin. Its smell, its texture. He knows which part he has to touch with his fingers, his lips, his tongue to make him shiver or moan or scream. He knows how to read the tiniest move, the tiniest sigh. Viktor's body, so sensitive and expressive, is like an open book. This knowledge wasn't innate, though. For it to become so, it took months of exploration, of mutual communication, verbal or not, and Yuuri couldn't be prouder of this deep intimacy they've built together.

He closes the tube and bends down Viktor, his chest against his back. “It's done,” he whispers in his ears. “Protected from head to toes.”

“Wow.” Viktor gives him a side glance. “Were you feeling that sorry…?”

“I don't need to be sorry to take care of you.” Yuuri wipes his hands on the towel Viktor brought. “But also… I was.”

“My legs feel wobbly. Only you could make my legs wobbly just by putting sunscreen over me.”

“We can stay here for a moment.” Yuuri gets off Viktor's back to lie by his side. “This chair is large enough for two.”

“Hmm… That's tempting. But if I don't move now, I feel like I'll never be able to again.” Viktor stands up, stretching his arms. “I'll take a little walk around the deck. Do you want to come with me? Or would you rather rest?”

Yuuri stands up as well, taking Viktor's hand. “On second thought, I've been lying down long enough today.”

They let their stuff on the sun lounger, confident that no one will steal them since they're alone on this side of the deck. Hand in hand, they walk over the rail, watching the horizon.

“I'm so glad you feel better,” Viktor says after a moment of silence. “I'm much more relaxed now that you're here with me.”

“You looked rather relaxed when I found you.”

"That's all thanks to Ihab, Tanya and Ava. They found the right words. And just being in their company cleared my mind.”

“They’re very kind people.”

“They are. I’m glad we met them. It feels good to speak to people from other countries who are totally unrelated to figure skating. To just be seen as Viktor, besotted newlywed.” Still looking at the horizon, Viktor wraps his arm around Yuuri's waist. “I wish this honeymoon could never end.”

“It’s only starting. We have so many beautiful things ahead just this week. The Sphinx, the pyramids… not to mention the dromedary ride…”

“My future brightest moment,” Viktor laughs. "I can't wait. Doing all these new things, meeting all these people… I really feel like it makes my love for travelling stronger.”

“Any ideas for where you'd like to go next? I mean, after the honeymoon?”

This innocent question seems to switch something within Viktor. The way he tenses would've been imperceptible to anyone other than Yuuri. A thin veil of wistfulness falls over his eyes, and rises immediately as he looks at Yuuri.

“I'm still thinking about it.” On Viktor's lips appears a smile that, for the first time in a while, Yuuri cannot read through.


	4. ???, Austria-Czech Republic border, 11:28 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is where the mild M rating comes in, even though it's mostly in retrospect)

During the planning of their honeymoon, Yuuri and Viktor had to plot their itinerary in minute detail, and it didn’t happen without some difficulty. For instance, they realised that there would be no convenient flight from Cairo to Prague unless they made a four-hour stopover in Vienna. They don’t mind stopovers, they’re part of the adventure, but wandering in an airport so close to their destination country for such a long time, yet not long enough to get to visit the city… They were certain they could find a better plan.

After a few discussions, they decided they would take a plane to Vienna and finish the journey by train. Yuuri was hesitant at first because it would take them longer, but Viktor painted him such a beautiful picture of them taking a meal in a nice dining car while enjoying the landscapes passing by, then cuddling in a comfortable compartment while letting themselves be lulled by the rails’ sweet melody, that he became quickly convinced.

Viktor has a way with words, especially for things he’s excited about. Trains are one of them. Russia offers many original rides, and while he didn’t try them all, they contributed to the romantic idea he’s always had of them.

Sadly, romanticism isn’t with him today, to say the least.

“You couldn’t have guessed there would be a railway strike,” Yuuri says to comfort him, stroking Viktor’s stubbornly crossed arms. “Even the staff didn’t know we’d be stuck at the border.”

“I still can’t believe they forced us to get off the train. We don’t even know where we are.”

“They had no choice… At least we’re in a real station, it’s not like they dropped us off in the middle of nowhere.”

Viktor glances out the station window. All he sees are fields beneath a rainy sky and little brown dots in the distance. Cows, probably. They might not be themselves in the middle of nowhere, but this station definitely is. On top of that, it’s a Wi-Fi dead zone, so they can’t even calculate how far from Prague they are.

Viktor rarely gets in a bad mood, unless it’s for a serious reason. Like having to step off a train they booked months in advance before they even get to enjoy lunch and being stuck in a tiny station filled with other displeased passengers, without knowing when they'll be able to hop on another train.

Maybe they should’ve taken that plane in the end.

“I feel so bad… I promised you such a nice trip, and now…”

A loud jingle and a crackling voice coming out of the speakers, provoking a murmur in the crowd, interrupts Viktor. He’s lost his train of thought, so he says no more.

“Viktor… You don’t like it when I blame myself for things that are out of my control, right?” Yuuri smiles. “Because that’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

“No, no, I just mean…” It’s pointless. Viktor tends to forget how easy it is to fall into the ‘do as I say and not as I do’ trap. “Okay, I know it’s not my fault. It’s just not how I had pictured this day.”

“Incidents happens. Actually, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, what with all our travels. For a first world tour, we’re not doing that bad.”

Viktor smiles back, feeling grateful yet again that when one of them struggles to be optimistic, the other has enough optimism for two.

Again, the jingle. The same voice starts speaking English and despite the terrible sound, they understand why the crowd reacted a minute ago: a train bound for Prague will be there in two hours, and they’ll be able to board upon presentation of their previous ticket.

Viktor sighs, this time with relief. “I was already picturing us sleeping in this hall.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take that long.” Yuuri sits cross-legged on his plastic chair. “Now we just have to find a way to pass the time.”

After thirteen Uno games in a row, they switch to the ‘Dubbing game,’ which consists in observing people from afar and making up conversations. Yuuri is astoundingly good at this, and his dialogues leave Viktor doubled up with laughter. Clearly their main target inspires him: a group of obnoxious people they saw back at Vienna’s station, who keep pushing everyone standing in line for the snack bar and loudly calling out at each other. They're all wearing the same gaudy red shirts with an unclear logo on the back. Viktor thinks it represents a badly designed moth whereas Yuuri leans towards a badly designed motorcycle front.

“Do you think they’re in the same family?” Yuuri asks.

“God I hope so. If this much incivility were running in the genes of more than one family, could you imagine the disaster? Hey,” Viktor begins to giggle, “what if we all end up in the same car?”

“Shh, don’t jinx it.”

“Come on, there are so many passengers. What are the chances? Want to get a sandwich once they're gone?”

It’s only when everyone starts gathering on the platform outside that they realise the two hours have passed. They carefully put away their cards so they can resume the game later and grab their luggage. As the train arrives, right on time, Viktor puts an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, feeling silly for getting so worried. It was just one grain of sand in the machine.

The cars are split into compartments with a table between the seats, and because of all these last-minute settlements, passengers are allowed to choose whichever they want. Viktor and Yuuri luckily find an empty one. Sure, it isn't as nice and comfortable as the previous train (hopefully the company will refund the difference), but at least they’re finally on their way to Prague.

They sit opposite each other to finish their game, intending to change places as soon as they’re done. They’ve got many seats at their disposal, they won’t deny themselves the luxury.

“Hm… I think you've got my cards,” Viktor says, inspecting them.

“No, I clearly remember I had three cards and you nine.” With a sweet smile, Yuuri plays a +4. “But nice try.”

As if on cue, four people with painfully recognisable red shirts enter the compartment, laughing and chatting loudly, and Viktor can practically hear the record needle scratching in Yuuri’s brain.

They spread out their stuff all over the shelves, then on the seats when they run out of space. Yuuri glares at the bag pressed heavily against his side, then discreetly pushes it back while sending Viktor a look that screams 'save me'. Viktor covers his mouth with his hand, stifling a nervous laugh. An entire ride with the only people they wanted to avoid… What were the chances indeed. To make it worse, played at their own game, they won’t even get to go through the trip sitting next to each other.

His phone vibrates. A text from Yuuri.

_i knew this game was evil, i summoned them_

Viktor snorts. _Maybe it won’t be that bad,_ he types, but before he can send it, his neighbour, the loudest of the bunch, painfully elbows him in the arm. Either the guy didn't notice or he doesn't care, in any case he doesn't apologise.

Rubbing his arm, Viktor erases his reply and types instead, _Weren’t there like a dozen of them earlier? Where are the others?_

_i guess there was no room left anywhere_

_At least they left us one square centimetre of table to play, nice._

Yuuri takes a look at the table now covered with tour guides and opened beer cans. One of them is dangerously close to the stack of cards. He moves it as far as possible, making the game space even more narrow. Between this and the noise, it quickly becomes unplayable.

_do you think we can play by text?_

_Let’s try!!  
Your turn to pick a colour_

_blue_

_7, switching my cards with yours_

_you said we weren’t playing with this rule but okay  
skip_

_Liar I don’t even have a skip card >:O_

_+4_   
_uno_

_Stop making things up :((_

_<3_   
_it’s not really working is it_

_It would’ve if you hadn’t cheated  
I win_

The texts keep going, from how weird the sandwiches from the station tasted, to the latest pictures of Makkachin Mila sent them, interspersed with comments about what they see out the window. They do their best to avoid paying attention to their fellow passengers (since renamed the 'Mothtorcycles'), who in return do their best to be as boisterous and present and hard to ignore as possible. Viktor doubts that it's intentional, some people simply don't realise when they're being rude. He's been guilty of that himself in the past.

Still, he likes to think there's a difference between tactless comments and acting like you're the only people on Earth in public spaces. He's been in contact with his neighbour more than he's been with Yuuri, and this is unacceptable. The best they can get is some feet-touching, like some shy teenagers, and the table legs blocking the way won't even allow them to go higher than the ankles.

The train slows down as it reaches Brno station, and something incredible happens. The Mothtorcycles stand up, pick up their bags and leave the compartment as noisily as they entered it. Viktor and Yuuri exchange a look, their faces lighting up, yet not daring celebrate too soon. Only when the train starts moving again, letting the red shirts fade into the distance, does the sheer comedy of what just happened sink in, and soon they’re laughing so hard their bellies hurt.

No other passenger comes in. They’ve opened the window to let fresh air in and are now lying together on the seats, Yuuri nestled between Viktor’s legs as Viktor hugs his chest from behind. Minus the empty cans and greasy papers left behind as a souvenir, it’s starting to look like the journey Viktor was looking forward to.

What are two grains of sand in the machine?

They step off the train two hours later, tired but with a light heart. Their favourite moment upon discovering a new city is the very beginning, when they take everything in with stars in their eyes. The architecture, the people, the sounds and smells. Prague, the city of a hundred spires, is renowned as one of the most beautiful cities in Europe and they can’t wait to explore it in depth.

“Still no Wi-Fi for me…” Viktor says with a frown. “What about you?”

“It’s not great, but it should be enough to find the hotel.”

They enter the address in Yuuri’s GPS and happily find out it’s not very far. They confidently get going, but the streets are not as easily passable as the GPS lead them to believe and they have to retrace their steps more than once. They eventually reach their destination, but Viktor immediately notices that something is off.

“There must be a problem… It doesn't look anything like the pictures on the website.”

“Yeah, now you mention it… The walls were blue. Maybe it’s further up the street.”

They stride along the street in the hope of spotting a blue building, in vain. Not knowing what to do, they decide, without conviction, to go back where the GPS initially took them to.

“There’s no way it’s here,” Viktor says, “it doesn’t even look like a hotel.”

“Hold on, let me type the address again…”

Yuuri carefully transcribes it off the notebook Viktor is holding open for him. Ever since they got lost in Vancouver during last year’s Skate Canada with both their phones dead, they never go abroad without a written record of every useful address anymore.

“Our location keeps jumping to random places… What the hell…” Yuuri starts laughing nervously. “Wow, uh, okay, now it’s taking us back to Brno. Perfect.”

“Okay, okay,” Viktor intervenes when he senses in Yuuri’s voice the tone of someone who begins to panic but does their best not to show it. “Forget the GPS, we’ll find our way without it. Follow me.”

They enter the small building, which must be some kind of cultural centre judging by the artworks and posters presented in the lobby. While the girl behind the counter doesn’t speak much English, she immediately understands their request when they point at the address on the notebook. They expect her to vaguely gesture in a direction with her finger at best. Instead, she grabs a brochure, unfolds it on her counter to reveal a tourist map of the city, with landmarks and legends. Either she’s taking pity on their travelling equipment and obvious exhaustion or she’s bored, in any case she takes her sweet time to draw a route and circle the most important landmarks with a red marker.

They’re frustrated they can’t do more upon leaving than say the only word they know in Czech, ‘Děkuji’. Maybe they’ll get to come back to visit the exhibition, or whatever it is. With a box of chocolates.

They’re standing in the middle of a street, holding the map and trying to interpret it, when a raindrop crashes on the paper. Followed by another. Then ten others. They exchange a look akin to resignation, starting to get used to everything going downhill today. Yuuri opens his umbrella before the sudden downpour turns their map to mush and soaks them to the bone. It’s too small to protect them plus their luggage entirely, so they huddle under it as close as possible. The map makes the route look short, but between the rain, the weight of their suitcases and their struggles to follow directions, it takes them around forty-five minutes to finally reach the big, blue building that looks exactly like the pictures on the website.

“We made it,” Viktor says, not quite believing it. He takes Yuuri’s face in his cold, wet hands, and presses on his lips a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’.

This third grain of sand was composed of multiple problems, but Viktor wants to think of it as a single one. Everything comes in three, and now that they’ve found the hotel, he feels like they’ve crossed some kind of finish line. Hotels give a sense of security. He can’t see what more could happen today.

The lobby is warm and very light in this late afternoon. As Viktor hands the receptionist his ID card to verify the reservation, he lets himself picture their first evening in Prague and all the ways they’ll get to unwind. Given his smile, Yuuri is entertaining similar thoughts. His hair is damp and there are droplets all over his glasses. Viktor wants to wrap him in a large blanket here and now.

The receptionist taps on her keyboard and stares at her screen, for a bit too long to Viktor’s taste. She frowns.

“I’m truly sorry… No reservation is recorded under your name.”

Viktor’s heart starts beating a bit faster, but he keeps a cool head. “Uh… Well, can you try with K-A-T-S-U-K-I?” he asks, even though for convenience’s sake, all reservations for the entire honeymoon were made under the same name, his.

She shakes her head no, and Viktor’s shoulders sag. These little grains of sand were manageable at first, but they’ve kept coming up, relentless, and as a result of removing them one by one all day, Viktor feels drained of his energy. He’s not used to it, having his plans backfire. Failures and problems have happened before, but it’s never come to this point, and certainly not during something as important as his own honeymoon. Having no room at the end of a disastrous, cold, rainy day in a city they don’t know… That’s the icing on the cake.

Sensing his distress, Yuuri squeezes his hand and takes over. Politely, but with a touch of irritation only those who know him can detect, he explains that they definitely made the reservation, showing the email confirmation as proof.

“It’s strange,” the receptionist says. “A computer error, most likely.”

“You really can do anything?”

“I can go through our history with the email’s recorded data, but…” She spots a guy coming out of the employee only area, and gestures for him to come closer. “But the room you initially booked is taken till the end of the week.”

“And… There’s no similar room available?”

“We still have a few suites, but they’re in a different price range,” she says with a sorry expression as the guy joins her behind the counter. “Let me show you.”

They have to use a convertor on Yuuri’s phone to make sense of the prices in Czech koruna. Their eyes widen in shock. One single night in these suites is worth around one week in the small inns near Yu-topia. While the two receptionists are busy speaking Czech and frantically typing on the computer, Yuuri and Viktor step aside to have a quiet word.

“Do you think they’re trying to scam us?” Yuuri whispers.

“No. Look at them. They really don’t get what’s going on. What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know… We said we wouldn’t be going too over the top for accommodations so we could enjoy our visits to the fullest… One night in these suites would blow a big enough hole in our budget, but a whole week…”

“I agree, I agree. That said, we also have a budget for emergency cases.”

“I’m not sure you could call it that…”

“Yuuri, if we leave, do you know what it means? More walking in the rain, dragging around our ten tons of luggage in a city we don’t know, without any guarantee to find anywhere to sleep that isn’t completely dodgy, and we’ll get tired and annoyed and…” He takes a deep breath, only now realising how much his speech rate has increased, and touches his forehead.. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, I’m completely worn out, and you must be too. I think we deserve to treat ourselves, even if it’s just for one night. We can find another solution tomorrow, but tonight… Please, no more mishaps.”

Yuuri’s expression softens. He seems to think, then takes hold of Viktor’s hand. “You’re right. We deserve something nice. And we might not pay full price. Since we gave them proof of our reservation for a much cheaper room, it’s in their interest to make a commercial gesture.”

The hotel indeed offers them quite a generous compensation for the suite, as well as the guarantee to accommodate them for the rest of their stay. A delicate perfume of lavender floats in the air as they enter the suite. It is huge, the decoration refined, with velvety couches and a king size bed that seems as comfortable as a cloud. The warm hues and lights give a cocoon impression to the entire room, contrasting with the cold, hard rain hitting the large windows.

Viktor didn’t expect that much. When people are zealous towards him, it is generally out of interest, yet neither the girl from the cultural centre nor the receptionists seem to know him or Yuuri. In fact, throughout their journey, they’ve only been recognised once or twice, at least as far as they’re aware. Other than that, they’re been treated like regular foreign tourists, which shows how genuine all the little attentions people have had for them were.

“Viktor! Come and see the bathroom!”

Viktor immediately spots the source of Yuuri’s excitement. It would be difficult to miss, as it takes up most of the room. Next to the shower is a hot tub, big enough for two people to lie in with no discomfort or painful contortions of any kind. It is the one thing Viktor didn’t know he needed at this exact moment, cuddling in a hot bath with his very gorgeous and very naked husband for hours. Now that the image has crossed his mind, he feels like he might die if they don’t follow up on it right this second. He looks at Yuuri who, without a word, nods, a smile illuminating his face.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he says, practically pushing Viktor out of the room. “Take off your clothes before you catch a cold. I’ll let you know when everything’s ready.”

Viktor closes the curtains and removes his wet clothes, discarding them on a chair. Once he’s completely naked, he lies on the soft bedspread and closes his eyes, letting his mind wander as the water audibly runs behind the door.

The images that come to him are those of his room back in Yu-topia. Nothing here should remind him of that, as they look nothing alike. He can't help it, his mind keeps going back there. Then, by association of ideas, he begins to think about the first time they made love in that very room.

It wasn't exactly their 'first time' per se. Several significant events happened before that, and Viktor considers them all a crucial part of the process through which they built their intimacy.

Like the first time they saw each other naked in a context other than bathing together in the hot spring, a few days after the Cup of China. They agreed on taking things slowly, and didn’t go further than washing each other’s backs and a few caresses. They called it acclimatising.

Then, the first time they took things further following the Rostelecom, in a hotel halfway between Fukuoka Airport and Hasetsu. Traffic was atrocious and they were so drained – both physically and emotionally – that they decided to make the taxi stop earlier than planned. The place was nothing fabulous, but a dog-friendly room with a bed was all they were asking for. That night, they did nothing more than sink into a deep slumber in each other’s arms. The next morning though… It was all intense cuddling and lazy handjobs, tasting the new feeling of melting in each other's skin and exploring each other’s bodies. It was rushed, imprecise, but also unforgettable, the culmination of two days spent worrying and craving contact.

After that, their desire for stronger, deeper intimacy kept growing, and reached its climax a few days before they went to Barcelona. They'd been frustrated because their intense practice days and the constant presence of Yuuri's family in the house had given them no time for themselves. But the ideal moment came, eventually. Everyone was out, Makkachin was having her post-lunch nap in Yuuri's room, and – coach's order – they took the afternoon off. They were relaxing on Viktor's bed, Yuuri showing him how to play one of his video games, neither of them knowing how to smoothly mention the topic. Like Viktor wasn’t a bad enough player already, Yuuri kept distracting him by kissing his neck and sliding his hand under his shirt, earning him a long stream of Game Overs. The distractions became more frequent and heated until Yuuri whispered in his ear. A stream of Russian pet names Viktor never taught him, and that he had therefore looked up himself. The console fell on the mattress, the sound still playing in the background.

Viktor couldn't really tell why sex in an unused banquet room turned into a modest bedroom, in his boyfriend's parents' resort, felt like the most intimate, homey thing in the world. But something clicked within him, as their bodies were intertwined and he was looking at the ceiling. _This is where I want to be, for the rest of my life._

Far from him to bite the hand that feeds him and criticise this gorgeous hotel room they got for less than half its price. But… That's all it is. A hotel room.

“I made you wait too long, didn't I.”

Yuuri is leaning against the door frame, his pose lascivious. Startled, Viktor straightens up and realises his hand is lazily wrapped around his cock. He takes it off, making Yuuri laugh.

“I'm kidding. You know I love it when you make yourself feel good.” He walks closer, his loosely tied up white robe slightly opening and teasing parts of his body, and takes Viktor's hands. “So? Your verdict on this bed?”

“My verdict…" His distraction must show on his face, because Yuuri's flirtatious expression vanishes. He pulls himself together and beams at Yuuri. "Would you mind if we didn’t go out of this room tonight?” 

“Absolutely not.” Yuuri smiles in return, but his voice has definitely changed. "With this rain, I don't know where we could go anyway."

“Is the hot tub ready?”

“It's almost done heating. We should have a wash before we test it.”

Yuuri holds Viktor's hands more firmly, and Viktor expects him to slowly pull him up. But he doesn't move.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

"Of course I am! Why would I not be?"

“I would understand… Today was a lot. You're the one who helped me not getting too stressed, but… I don't know if I was the same to you.”

For the first time today, Viktor is almost grateful for all the troubles they've gotten through, and that he can turn the attention away from what actually is on his mind. He hates it, though. He feels like he's lying. But he's not ready yet, and he doesn’t have the emotional energy to handle such an important conversation.

“Yes, it was complicated," he says. “But everything turned out fine. Better than fine. Look at us. A few hours ago, we were stuck in a small train car with the Mothtorcycles…”

Yuuri laughs. “That one's gonna stick.”

"...and now we're going to relax in a hot tub, not wear a single piece of clothing for the rest of the night…”

“I'm listening…” Yuuri lets go of Viktor's hands to untie his robe, dropping the tie to the ground.

“…and tomorrow, if the rain has stopped, we'll get to enjoy a copious breakfast on the balcony, and admire the panoramic view of the red tile roofs and the clock towers. Together.”

“You really have a way with words, don't you.”

“Once I've found them.” Viktor raises his hand and strokes Yuuri's cheek. “Nothing happened as planned today. I want us to finish it with a bang.”

“Viktor…” The fabric slides down Yuuri's soft skin, slowly revealing Yuuri's naked body. “You'll get much more than that.”

Before Viktor can make a single move, Yuuri picks him up, and his little scream of surprise quickly shifts into giggles as he holds tight onto Yuuri and wraps his legs around his waist. Yuuri rushes to the bathroom, his laughter mingling with Viktor's, and locks the door behind them.


	5. Landmannalaugar, Iceland, 1:04 AM

Yuuri can’t put his finger on it. He can’t pinpoint when exactly it started, but he can tell that something has changed, and the certainty is all the more frustrating as he has no idea what it could possibly be.

Their honeymoon is slowly coming to an end and, despite the occasional stones disrupting the peaceful stream, it has been an endless river of bliss. Viktor has been an absolute angel, always enthusiastic and getting excited over the smallest things. They’ve eaten delicious food and seen breathtaking places, they’ve had fits of laughter every day and have made love just as many times. Albeit not flawless, their little world tour has been perfect.

And yet. Yuuri can sense it. There is something on Viktor’s mind, not so serious that it affects his good mood, but serious enough for him to look absent and preoccupied at the oddest times. Anyone else would say Yuuri is reading too much into it, that Viktor might simply be sad the honeymoon is ending. And if he didn’t know Viktor so well, he too would say it’s only his anxiety speaking.

They are husbands, lovers, best friends. And even before they were all these things, Viktor never hesitated to talk to Yuuri about anything when he believed it needed to be said – with more or less tact. So what could he have in mind that he doesn't see fit to share?

It’s been three days since their arrival in Iceland, their final destination, and Yuuri has been struggling to find the right way and time to broach the subject, not wanting to spoil the mood. Today in particular was delightful. They were hiking in the rhyolite mountains, hued with multiple colours, when they found this blue, steaming crater lake, surrounded by green moss and red lava rocks. A real geothermal oasis. When Viktor suggested they come back later for a midnight bath, it gave Yuuri an idea.

What better place than a crater lake to stop keeping things in and let the truth spout? 

The place looks so different at night, but no less enchanting. They feel so cut off from the world. The clear moonlight illuminates the crater lake, and the slopes surrounding it with a faint glow. They’ve been sitting in the hot water for a while now, Yuuri wondering how to start the discussion. He closes his eyes, letting the heat appease his nervousness. When he opens them again, he finds Viktor’s face only one centimetre away, his mouth contorted into a grimace that makes him look like a llama. Yuuri jumps in surprise, making Viktor burst out laughing.

“I’ve been sitting here like this for two minutes!” he says, and half-running half-swimming closer to the middle of the lake to escape Yuuri’s splashing in retaliation. “It was too tempting! I’m sorry!”

They keep playing for a moment, the echoes of their laughter shattering silence. Yuuri feels much more relaxed, but also just as reluctant to spoil their moment. The water reaches to their chests.

“The air is so cold, we’ll freeze our asses off when we get out of here,” he says, rubbing Viktor’s shoulders to keep them warm.

“Then let’s stay in here. Problem solved.” Viktor strokes Yuuri's cheek. “Unless you’d rather go back to the shack?”

“No, not yet! I mean… I’d love to stay longer.”

“Are you sure? You seemed a little off earlier.”

Yuuri blinks at the sheer irony of the situation. “I’m fine,” he replies, for he cannot say _I seemed off only because I was trying to figure out how to ask you why you’ve been seeming off._ “What about you?”

Viktor looks a bit surprised, but shrugs with a smile. “Why would I not be?”

Yuuri’s heard that before. This non-answer in the form of a question.

“I don’t know.” He smiles back, gentle, looking at Viktor intently. “You tell me.”

Perceiving what the tone and words imply, Viktor’s face changes. Yuuri should push further, but what he sees makes him hesitate.

“Or don’t.” He drops his gaze. “I’m not trying to force you. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, or if you don’t want to. It’s just… When there’s something on my mind, you always encourage me to open up. Maybe I’m not as convincing as you, but we’re married. I can tell there’s something going on, and I want to be there for you as much as you are for me.” He wraps him in a hug, resting his hand on the back of his neck. The water’s heat embraces them in a soft peacefulness. “My love… I’m here for you no matter what.”

He hears Viktor suck in a breath. Yuuri rarely calls Viktor by pet names, as he tends to show his love through gestures more than words. But he’s been doing his best to use them more, since Viktor loves them. And this, right now, feels appropriate.

“Yuuri… I’m so sorry I worried you.” Viktor’s voice shakes with sincerity. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t want to bother you with this during our honeymoon.”

“You’re never bothering me.”

A pause. “I don’t know where to start… For some time now, I’ve been feeling… homesick.”

Confused, Yuuri moves away just enough to get a look at Viktor.

“What do you mean? Is it because of the honeymoon?”

“Oh no! Not at all! I'm having so much fun, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better honeymoon! Actually, I’m loving it so much that I’m… dreading our return to Russia.”

“Dreading? I don’t get it. Even if you don’t want it to end, how can you _dread_ going back to a country you’ve been homesick for?”

Viktor looks down with something akin to embarrassment. He breathes through his nose, but before he gets to explain further, it dawns on Yuuri.

“You're not homesick for Russia.”

Viktor gives a tentative smile, slightly ducking his head. Yuuri doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that.

“I know it’s strange,” Viktor says. “I’m not a Japanese citizen, and I haven’t been living there officially. Maybe I shouldn't use 'homesick,' but this is the closest I could find to describe my feelings.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

"It’s hard to tell… Since we started living together in Saint Petersburg, I caught myself thinking about Hasetsu. I thought it was only a bit of nostalgia. But it gradually got stronger. I would compare everything, the shops, the food, the people… Even during our journey, wherever we went, there were things reminding me of Hasetsu in some way. Like bathing in this hot spring, for instance. I’m aware I might be idealising it because I’ve lived some of the happiest moments of my life there, but even when I take its flaws into consideration… Hasetsu has my heart.”

Yuuri strokes Viktor’s arms in a soothing movement, aware of the energy telling all of this must’ve taken him. He feels terrible for not having seen anything, nor having been able to destroy the idea that Viktor should go through this on his own. But on the other hand, Viktor's genuine love for his hometown goes straight to Yuuri's heart.

He clears his throat. “You know, I was homesick when I started living in Detroit. I was young, and it was my first time living abroad. Leaving my family, the cultural shock… It was a lot at once. It eventually left on its own, and I’ve learned of a few ways to cope with it whenever it came back. I would cook Japanese meals, call my family, things like that.”

“And… What about Saint Petersburg? Didn't it make you feel homesick?”

“Hm… Yes and no. I’ve got more experience in living abroad now, so I can deal with it better. And I know I won’t wait years to go back to Japan, unlike in Detroit.” He cradles Viktor’s face. “Reverse homesickness is a thing. If it helps, keep in mind that we’ll see Hasetsu again, sooner than you think.”

“But it will only be temporary.” Viktor sighs. “Listen… I could keep on living in Russia as if nothing were the matter, and wait hoping it’ll pass. But I would be lying to myself, and to you, about what I truly want.”

_Oh._

Clearly the problem is deeper than Yuuri thought, and will not be solved with some tonkotsu ramen.

“Okay, but… You train in Saint Petersburg, and I doubt Yakov would be okay with you moving… for the second time.”

A cloud overcasts the moon. Viktor tenses under Yuuri’s hands.

“What's wrong?”

“There's something else I need to tell you… and maybe it's not a great idea to do it where you can't sit down.”

Yuuri's heart rate speeds up by reflex, knowing deep down what Viktor is going to announce. He still needs him to say it, otherwise he won’t believe it.

“The next season… The next season will be my last.”

Yuuri takes a shaky breath. Viktor grabs his hands and holds them against his chest.

“By the time it ends, I’ll be close to thirty. Which is much older than my younger self would have hoped for.”

“Wait… Wait, wait, wait. You… You're not retiring because you feel like you have to, or because you want to speed up your return to Japan, right?”

“Yuuri, come on.” Viktor presses their foreheads together. “You're my biggest fan, give me more credit. I don't want to retire on an impulse. I've thought about it long and hard. My time as a competitive skater has been beautiful, and filled with pain too. I can sense it. It's time for me to move on to something else. To other projects.” He bumps Yuuri’s nose with his. “I want to keep coaching you, watching you achieve greatness. I want to continue living my best life with you and Makkachin. But believe me, I don't intend to retire quietly. I'm planning grandiose things for my last season. I intend to leave… with a bang.”

The weight of everything Viktor said finally hits Yuuri. The twelve-year-old boy in his heart who secretly hoped his idol would be skating forever bursts into tears, even though on the outside, it’s only expressed through a couple tears rolling down his cheeks and a graceless sniff.

“If you cry, I’ll cry too,” Viktor gently warns him.

“Sorry.” Yuuri takes a few deep, shaky breaths, and brings some water in the palm of his hands to his face. “It's just… Sorry.”

“Don't be. I understand. I'm the one who’s sorry for not telling you sooner. Both about my retirement and my wish to move to Japan.”

“Can I ask… why? Were you scared I wouldn't support you?”

“I knew you would. But I didn’t want you to do it against your will. You worked so hard to find your footing in Russia, I didn't want to impose my views on you and make you feel like you had to give up on everything for me. Even if I retire, that doesn't mean we have to go back to Japan, especially if you don't want to.”

Yuuri's expression turns serious, despite the tears he didn't bother wiping away. “Then let’s talk about what I want. I want you to be fulfilled in every single aspect of your life, and this includes the place where you want us to make a home together. And if there is something that our honeymoon confirmed, it’s that I could do it anywhere. So yes, I want to move to Japan with you. I can't tell you how honoured I feel that, of all the countries there are in the world… You'd choose mine.”

“So… you're not upset?” Viktor says, on the verge of tears.

Tangling his fingers in Viktor's damp hair, Yuuri brings him closer, and their lips come together. Viktor's hold around him tightens, and the two of them lose their footing, not realising how much they've drifted. The sudden lack of stability pushes them to cut off the kiss sooner than intended. Their eyes filled with tears, they exchange a loving smile, still holding onto each other.

“It feels like the end of an era,” Yuuri admits. “But after so long not feeling free to live your life as you wanted… I’m so happy you’ll get to retire on your own terms. And I’m so relieved this is what it was all about. You were just thinking about your future. Our future.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, so take all the time you need to think about it. No pressure, okay?”

Yuuri nods, even though his decision is already taken. If they want to move back to Japan when the next season ends, they better begin the procedures as soon as possible. Between this and the competitions, the months to come will be no walk in the park.

“By the way,” Yuuri asks him later as they're putting their clothes back on by the light of the moon and a torch, “what are the 'grandiose things' you have in mind for your last season?”

Viktor hops up and down, shivering in his towel. “Would you mind if we talk about it once we're back to the shack? I'm freezing my ass off. Have you seen my briefs?”


	6. Saint Petersburg, Russia, 11:40 AM

“So?” Yuuri whispers. “Do you hear something?”

Viktor puts his finger to his lips as he presses his ear against the door. He makes out scratching and a soft panting, and a fond smile forms on his face. He can picture her going in circles on the doormat, her fluffy tail wagging in anticipation. “She’s in there, right behind the door. And I think she sensed us…”

“Oh good, I was scared she would be out. It would’ve ruined everything." 

“Do you want to go out for a walk?” Mila coos from inside, her loud, high-pitched puppy voice barely muffled through the door. “Do you? Let’s grab your little leash first…” Her voice goes back to normal. “Shit, where did I put it…?”

Viktor straightens up. “You do it or I do it?”

“I did it last time, honour is yours. Stand back.” Yuuri puts the suitcases and bags out of the way, turns the key in the hole and, before opening the door, exclaims, “Think fast!”

Viktor opens his arms just in time for the brown, curly-furred tornado to leap into them. By the force of habit, he barely stumbles.

“Now, now,” Viktor giggles uncontrollably as Makkachin licks his face. “I know baby, we missed you too… It’s been ages, oh yes! But we always come back, see?”

“What the fuck?” Mila appears on the threshold, her eyes wide open in shock. “You scared me! I didn’t think you’d be back so soon!”

“We miscalculated the time difference.” Yuuri smirks. “If you gave a party last night and you're not done cleaning up, it's now or never."

“Your trust is touching.” She hugs him before helping them bring the luggage to the living room, where they properly resume their greetings and conversation. Yuuri kneels down to scratch Makkachin's belly, realising not without emotion how much he's missed her. She looks great, full of energy, her hair soft and shiny. Mila did a perfect job.

"So how've you been doing, girl?” he coos. “Did you have fun with Auntie Mila?"

"Auntie…?" Mila repeats with a disapproving tone.

"You would've loved Prague, we've come across so many friends of yours!" Viktor says. "Sheepdogs, samoyeds and even two black twin poodles… But don't worry, you'll always be the cutest. We brought you tons of gifts!"

He opens one of the bags where they stored all the souvenirs they got Makkachin, one per country. He makes her smell the toys one by one and she adopts them all, grabbing them in her mouth and carries them to her basket before sitting in front of them protectively. But when Viktor shakes the bags of dog treats from Thailand close to her bowl, she rushes to the kitchen so fast she almost trips on her own feet. Mila bursts out laughing.

"My, she's a spoiled girl. Did you blow the entire souvenirs budget on her?" she teases. She eats her words one minute later as Yuuri puts a soft paper package in her hands. "Guys, I was kidding, you didn't have to…"

"You've been looking after Makka and our apartment for a month, it's the least we could do. We bought it in Cairo, it reminded us a bit of your costume for the NHK Trophy--"

"Hey, hey! Don't spoil your own gifts!" she protests, hugging it against her. "Please tell me I'm not the only one who got a souvenir, I'd be embarrassed. Flattered, but embarrassed."

"Nah, we got everyone a little something," Viktor replies. "Including Yuuri's family. Oh, speaking of, we're planning another trip to Japan soon to see them…"

“Ah? No problem! I’ll gladly look after Makkachin again.”

“Well, actually… It won't be needed,” Yuuri says. “We'll take her with us.”

Mila's disappointment is palpable. “Are you sure? I wouldn't mind…”

"We know," Viktor laughs. "But she loves Hasetsu. It's like… a second home to her. We'll probably stay there for a bit, since we have some important matters to deal with."

"Important matters?" She frowns. "Hope it's nothing serious?"

Yuuri and Viktor exchange a look. "Nothing of the sort. We just need to be there."

Mila looks like she’s smelling a rat, but she doesn't insist. "So," she claps her hands, "this honeymoon! How was it?"

"Fabulous. But this last flight completely drained us," Viktor says as Yuuri nods in agreement.

"We were already at the airport at 3, we thought it'd be easier to stay awake rather than get up early. We got some sleep in the plane, but…"

"Don't say more! Give me a second to gather my stuff and say goodbye to my new BFF…" Mila squats down to give Makkachin a big hug, while in return Makkachin licks her cheek, "…and I'll be out of here."

"Come for tea tomorrow, we'll tell you all about it," Viktor says. "And we'll give you the check."

"A check?" Mila scoffs. "Guys, I'd pay you to watch over Makkachin again. Get your photo slideshow ready though, I want to see everything."

"How do you think she'll react when we tell her she won't ever need to pet-sit Makka anymore?" Yuuri asks a few minutes after Mila left, turning the kettle on. They've been dying to try this Icelandic moss tea.

"I doubt she'll be that surprised." Viktor takes the dirty laundry bag out of a suitcase. He doesn't have the strength to do more. "Did you see her look when we said we had things to take care of?"

"She couldn't have guessed what we're actually going to do. But it's the best solution. It'll be much easier to search for a house once we're there."

As he begins to prepare the tea in two mugs, Viktor's arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, still holding the laundry bag. Yuuri grins at the sensation of déjà vu.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of feeding me with something from that bag."

Since Viktor doesn't give a comeback of his own and simply stands here, against Yuuri's back, Yuuri starts wondering if everything's okay.

“Back in the lake, you told me you could make a home with me anywhere. I want to make it clear that it’s the same for me. Wherever we are, wherever we live, you’re not feeling any less like home.”

Yuuri closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Good.” Viktor presses a kiss to the back of Yuuri's head. Yuuri blushes, soaking up Viktor's warmth, and they stay like this until the kettle whistles.

“I'm getting rid of this and I'll be right back,” Viktor whispers in his ear, showing the bag.

Yuuri settles their favourite crochet blanket – he's missed it too – on the couch so they can snuggle in it and rest before tackling the tidying up part that neither of them feels like starting. Makkachin is sitting on an open suitcase, as though trying to prevent them from leaving again.

"Next time we're packing, you'll be coming too,” Yuuri promises, petting her head. “We'll find a lovely place just for the three of us. By the beach. With a garden.”

Coincidence or not, she abandons the suitcase in favour of the couch.

“Hey!” Yuuri calls out. “How about we start sorting through our pictures tonight?”

“Haha, already nostalgic?” Viktor replies from the bathroom.

“If we want to have our photo albums printed in time before we leave for Japan, we better start now.”

“Are you really sure about giving your parents a copy?" Viktor walks back in. "I mean… Some of the pics we took are rather… personal.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to include them in this album.” Before Viktor can protest, Yuuri continues. “Like you said, they’re personal. They’d look much better in a separate album just for us.”

“You want to print two albums?”

“My parents are interested in the landscapes, the architecture, the food. They don't care much about our lying on a mountain and kissing.”

Viktor laughs at the memory. “God, it took ages to get this one right. I was so scared the rock would be too unstable for the camera.”

“And my back hurt so bad when we got up again. But it was worth it.”

“It’s a brilliant idea.” The concept of a secret album including their regular travel pictures plus their demonstrations of love, occasionally in a state of semi-nudity, thrills Viktor. They deserve to be printed, as much as they deserve to remain solely part of Viktor and Yuuri’s privacy and intimacy. It’s a perfect compromise. After all, even Phileas Fogg must have kept a secret travel log.

Once the tea is ready, they settle comfortably under the blanket, Makkachin lying between them and taking up half the couch. They feel so drowsy they don’t intend to move anytime soon.

“So.” Yuuri holds out his mug. "What do we drink to? To… our world tour? To Hasetsu?"

Viktor clinks their mugs together. He brings his right hand to Yuuri's neck, drawing him closer while making sure not to wake Makkachin up, and their lips meet in a kiss full of sweet passion and mutual promises.

“To our future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed Yuuri and Viktor's journey as much as they did! Don't hesitate to let me know about your thoughts <3
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://piecesofbrokenrecollections.tumblr.com)


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